


seeing stars

by cinnabun



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underswap, F/M, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 06:43:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13025442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnabun/pseuds/cinnabun
Summary: Sometimes it’s hard to keep up when your boyfriend is a Superstar. But it doesn’t hurt to have a few tricks up your own sleeve, either.(2K One-Shot Commission - Napstaton/OC, for @bigfanofpuns on tumblr)





	seeing stars

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for the commission, darling! I hope you enjoy it !! ❤

* * *

 ❤ ❤ ❤

* * *

He was spinning circles around you.

You watched his legs switch out, almost comically, from wheel to skates, then back. It kept him on a steady path, swirling perfect figure eights, while you just spun in place, dizzy and unamused. The crowd around you cheered and whooped at his stunts, while you seethed in place, fuming jealously.

“Oh, come on!” You shouted, watching him pull some ridiculous cross between a pirouette and a dab as he passed by you again. “You know I wasn’t made for the ice, Nappy!”

“How else ya’ gonna learn if you don’t try, sugar-wings?” He trilled back, merely giving you a couple of finger-guns in response. “C’mon, babe, feel the heat! Stretch those wings and feel the beat!”

Sometimes your boyfriend could be a real ass, but the fact that he was still encouraging you, even now, showed that he at least wanted you to try. Even if you’d been trying now. For about thirty minutes.

“Bat Monsters weren’t made—!” You started again, but he only lifted a gloved hand in a yapping motion, mocking your complaints.

“ _For the ice!”_ He squeaked in a terrible impression of your own voice. “Yeah, I know!! But, like, what’s cooler than being cool, honey buns? Ice cold, duh!! And what’s cooler than ice? Ice-skating?? And what’s cooler than ice-skating???”

He was behind you before you knew it, grasping the claw at the end of your wing to throw you into another spin. You kept spinning even when he let you go, only able to keep your balance by using said wings as leverage. “Skating with your totally awesome, famous rockin’ DJ boyfriend!!!”

You could think of many things. Practicing your aerial acrobatics for one. Those were much simpler—being a Bat Monster, with the wings and all. Spending time with Nappy in his camper, listening to Aaron and Happstablook practicing their vocals. Anything without this crowd—which felt very out of character for you to think, for even a moment, because you loved crowds.

And you loved being loved _by_ crowds. But for now? You were humiliated.

Skating was hard, and without the sort of “upgrades” Nappy was endowed with, you were left to stumble and flail gracelessly around the ring, clinging to your boyfriend’s extendable arms when he got within reach of your wingspan. He seemed to take amusement in your failings, though, spinning and dipping you like you were a puppet on a string, and him the puppeteer. You knew there was no malice in his actions, just support and a need to entertain, but it didn’t make you feel much better.

After all, you wanted to entertain, too! You loved the attention, doing tricks and stunts to make the audience “Ooh!” and “Aah!” at your prowess. It was hard, and kind of hurt sometimes, feeling like you were second-hand to your superstar of a boyfriend, though.

More than anything, though, you wanted to show him up. Give him a little taste of his own medicine, so to say. And you knew just how to do it.

He seemed surprised when you suddenly released him, throwing yourself across the ice in one of the most graceful (and slightly terrifying) maneuvers you’d ever chanced. A single claw pressed to the ice, keeping your arc, the other at an angle to create the illusion of balance. But the real kicker? You pulled in your knee, forcing a twirl, then froze in place, using the span of your wings as leverage to keep yourself in place. The crowd around you gasped in amazement. You saw Napstaton slowing behind you, his screen flashing various colors in what you could only know as “Challenge Mode.”

So be it, then.

In a way, you were both cheating. Him, using his retractable limbs to maneuver his body in ways you’d never expect a robot to be capable of. You, hooking your claws into the ice, sparking frost where you landed, spinning and jumping and leaping. All with the help of your wings to keep a hover that only true professionals would be able to pull-off otherwise.

Playfully, he dipped under you, spinning his robotic legs just beneath your body as you moved into another jump. It almost looked like a dance routine. Felt like one, too. Your wings flapped to keep you afloat as he bounced back up, and before you could see what was happening, he had an arm dragging you against him. It caught you off-guard for a moment and you stumbled, but then he lifted you, spun around, and threw you out with one arm into a twirl.

The crowd around you was steadily growing, and you couldn’t help but laugh, flashing him a gaze of amusement and daring. His screen flashed a little, then reflected a quick heart in your direction, before you were once again tugged to his side. This time you held on, kicking one leg up for dramatic effect.

“Ladies, gents, and gentle-brosephs!” Nappy called out, a microphone in his free hand as he wrapped the other arm around you several more times. Even with how cold it was outside; his metallic body was still warm. Like an engine running on high. And with the way his internal fans were blasting, you knew you’d hit the nail on the head. “Welcome to today’s public pas-de-deux, my dudes! Featuring your local Monster Superstar and his totally rad gal, the Stupendous Zhara!”

A loud round of applause and whistling came from all around you, and beneath your fur you could feel the heat of a blush building up. Then came the camera flashes, a few people moving around like they were recording, and you started to shiver in excitement. Oh man, you’d forgotten how nervous the crowds could make you, despite how much you loved them. But still, you clung to your boyfriend, forcing a bright smile for the audience as they snapped pictures and cheered for an encore.

Your balance and peace of mind lasted for only a moment, however, before you felt the arm around your waist tighten, coil, and fling you upwards. With a squeak of fright and confusion, you let your wings spread, catching yourself momentarily to float downwards into what looked like a sudden explosion of glittery smoke and laser lights. Ohmygod, was he doing _that?_ _Here??_

Apparently so, because the glimmer of his shades could be seen twinkling even through the smoke. All around you the crowd let out squeals of excitement. The presence of “the great and incredible” Napstaton EX always seemed to have that effect on people, no matter how many times they’d seen him on tv or not. Your ears twitched as your boyfriend’s voice boomed across the rink, several tones deeper than it’d previously been, and much louder.

_“YO, WELCOME TO THE SHOW, BABES!!”_

His hand snapped up out of the smoke, and you took it, letting him twirl you around so that you were both posing. “ _LET’S TURN UP THE HEAT, SHALL WE?”_

Oh my god, this was so exciting!

Your first live performance! And not just the silly joking around you’d been doing before, now people had their phones out. Snapping pictures, recording you, jumping around and screaming in a way that gave you a flash of how Nappy must have felt on stage. You were so nervous, but at the same time, filled with a sense of determination. Nothing could bring you down right now, not even your inability to keep a steady foot on the ice. Because you had your wings to help you, and now that you’d gotten used to it, you were sure that…this? This was going to be your chance to prove yourself. To really show them all what you were made of.

He gave you a mischievous grin—one that you returned in earnest. And that’s when the show _truly_ began.

You weren’t sure where the music was coming from, but a good guess was telling you it was from the speaker’s lodged in your boyfriend’s chassis. The moment he released your claws, you let it fly. Literally.

It was freezing out, but the heat burning in your chest was a wildfire, spreading from the soles of your feet to the tips of your wings. Heat, passion, exhilaration. You loved it all, and the steady thump of your SOUL was quickening to a pace that made you feel like if you turned at the wrong moment, you’d dust right then and there. But you knew that it wouldn’t _actually_ happen. It was more of a “you were just so thrilled that you felt like you were going to burst into a million pieces” type of dusting than a “someone had just actually murdered you” kind of dusting.

So you dipped low, crossing your feet at an angle that made your wings umbrella the rest of your body. You could see Nappy gyrating behind you, twisting his arms into ridiculous shapes that made the crowd roar with laughter and applause. Then he stopped, just as the music dipped into a low crescendo. You kept spinning, faster and faster. The crowd cheered louder in anticipation, taking up a steady chant of “ _Yo! Yo! Yo! Yo!”_ (One of Napstaton’s catchphrases, and a definite regular you heard being yelled out all throughout his performances.)

With a shove, you pushed yourself airborne, spreading your wings as wide as they could go. The weight on your back as you let them fold inwards sent you plummeting. It was terrifying at first, but just as the beat dropped, you landed straight in Napstaton’s waiting arms. One of his legs kicked out on the ice, the other bent so low beneath him that you could see the reverberations of the music making the rink pulse.

The crowd exploded to life, bursting into applause so loud that your ears popped.

You heard a couple of people scream out for Napstaton’s attention, but then again, you also heard people calling for you. For you. Asking for tricks, poses, autographs, and pelting you with so many questions that your head felt like it was spinning. The high from your show still had your SOUL pulsing a mile a minute, and all you could manage in response was a flustered cacophony of giggling and gasping. What a wonderful experience—now if only you could calm your nerves enough to give the crowd the encore they were asking for.

Trying to steady your breathing as best you could, you tucked your wings in, clutching your chest and attempting to spit out something other than the high-pitched chitters spewing from your muzzle. Your wings ached from the cold, and suddenly it was like all the energy had been drained from your body. Despite all your practicing, it seemed you still had some ways to go before you could be a real live-performer (at least, on a regular basis), like Nappy was. He posed dramatically as he pulled you against him, while the cameras flashed so brightly that you could hardly see. You stumbled, exhausted, and collapsed against him.

“Don’t you worry, sugar-wings, I gotcha.” He whispered against your ear. “How was that—hype enough for ya, or are ya up to an encore?”

Your legs were trembling, and you felt like you were going to pass out, but you nodded anyway. “Gotta give the crowd what they want!”

He stared into your eyes for a long, lingering moment, then chuckled. “Alright, darlin’, let’s give ‘em all a good, rad conclusion to this little show, eh?”

Your legs flailed when he suddenly dipped you, so low that the tips of your ears brushed against the ice. Then, without warning, he kissed you.

It was deep, passionate…and obviously a show for the crowd. You heard a lot of feminine screaming and cooing. You rolled your eyes, but when he pulled back, you couldn’t help but melt under the dopy grin plastered across his face, your SOUL pulsing with warmth.

“Now how’s _that_ for seeing stars?”

* * *

❤ ❤ ❤

* * *

 

 


End file.
